“Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring--it was peace.”
― Milan Kundera
I did that with my dog, when it was near time to let her go. I drove to one of our favorite parks. She could only walk a little ways, and as she was a 70 pound lab, I couldn't carry her. We walked a few yards from the parking lot and sat on a small hill, in the grass, that over looked the Puget Sound. We'd been to that park, a huge park, and walked miles there many times. She loved the water too and had been swimming there many, many times. So we sat on the hill in the mild sun (it was March), and were just together. When we walked back to the car, she turned and took a last look, probably wondering why we didn't go for a walk, but I knew she wasn't capable of it. A few days later, I had to take her to the vet and let her go. She had splenic cancer and it had gotten into her liver. I waited as long as I possibly could because the vet said she was not in pain, just weakening and weakening daily.
She was the only dog in my life that was mine alone. I had her for 12 years and loved her beyond measure, so I know, Pixie, what you are going through.